Down In Chehalis: The Seizures
by platonicplatypus
Summary: -Prequel to Down In Chehalis- Everything seemed to be falling into place so perfectly. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Trigun, or any of Marcy Playground's content.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **I just realized that I haven't been putting these on any of my stories.. woopsie!

After critiquing, and mulling over the subject, I decided that Down In Chehalis was not complete. These few chapters depict Brett's life a year prior to her collapse. I'd also like to extend a biiig thank you to those who've read and given me feedback (including my sister, Nicole).

And you know I couldn't resist some more MP, could you? :3

Hope you enjoy~~

* * *

**Ancient Walls Of Flowers**

_Ancient walls of whispers falling low.  
__Murmur, simmer, and I'm feeling slow.  
__Keep me up, but keep me in my head.  
__I'll ping and pound of posies 'til I'm dead. _

**THE BAUER-WOOD ORPHANAGE - TWO ISLES EAST OF DAUTSIN **

"Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve this." The words were muffled as Brett downed the last sip of alcohol in her glass.

"You don't," Wolfwood gave a flat reply. "To tell you the truth, none of us do. But we're all given our second chances, are we not?"

"I suppose so," she sighed, glancing out the window. "But what good is a second chance, when you feel horrid?" She let her head lull within her palm, attempting to cease the waves. There was a warm, queasy sensation building at the pit of her stomach, reminding her of the inability to hold her liquor. A hand suddenly came to rest upon her own, a finger gently tracing figure eights across her wrist. She peered over at the man sitting adjacent her; lips mounted in a thin line, heavy eyes laced with sleep staring back at her own.

"What happened," he began, "was out of your control. The people that died would've been killed either way, with or without your influence."

"No, I could've stopped them. There had to have been another way." There was a long pause before she stood, making for the door. "I'm going to bed. Before this drinking turns me into a cynic."

* * *

She thought back, eyes fixed upon the reflection of her bare torso. Numerous scars, perhaps twenty prominent in count, marred the surface of her flesh. She traced the thin line that seemed meticulously etched across her temple, and sighed. They would forever serve as a grim reminder of the wrongs she had failed to undo.

Her stomach wrenched as she let out a staggered breath, heaving once into the bowl. "Never again," she sighed, clenching her dome between her knees, cool porcelain pressing against her forehead. The bathroom floor would be her sanctuary tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** Heey.. sorry for the delay, if anyone was waiting! :3

**A Cloak Of Elvenkind**

_A cloaking robe of elvenkind hangs in my wardrobe behind, _

_All those things that Mother said were proper for a boy. _

_And I know I could not saw why,_

_On this summer evening. _

_The click of a revolver rang in her ear. Glancing to her right, she let out a gasp, the end of a barrel was staring her down, it's cool rim coming to rest against her cheek. _

_"I only got one shot," a husky voice mocked. "Who'll it be? You, or them?" _

_Click. Click. _

_"Red, please don't make me do this," she pleaded, looking on at the woman before them. She was a pretty girl, young, and still full of life. Her vibrant eyes welled with tears as she clasped both hands to her stomach, cradling an unborn child. _

_"It's this wench's husband's own fault for not listening to us," he ground out, pulling the trigger once more. _

_"So just take the money and-" _

_At that moment, he came toward her, the butt of his gun colliding with her temple. She gave a cry of pain, clasping a hand to the wound. Blood trickled down her fingers as she cursed the man through clenched teeth. "Now," he began, yanking her upward, "I suggest you cut the crap and just get this over with." His breath was hot on her ear as he spoke, and she mechanically raised her piece, taking aim at her superior. _

_"You little bitch," he hissed, striking her across the face. "Try and shoot me, will ya?" She gasped as he drove his boot into her ribs, sending her to the ground. _

_Peering up at him, she spat the grit from her mouth, watching as he hastily reloaded his gun. Panicked, she turned to the woman, letting out a desperate command. "Run!" _

_The outcry was muted, though, as a series of shots rang out, and the woman's cries were instantly stifled. _

_"Why? Why didn't you do it? Why didn't you stop them?" A slur of voices seemed to engulf her, as if plummeting into a dark abyss. "Why did you let them suffer?" _

_Chest tightening, her breathing becoming rasped, she felt cool metal digging into her skin. With a swift blow to the head, she was sent tumbling to the ground, repeatedly taking each hit. "No, stop," she groaned, "please, stop...stop it, stop it, stop it!" _

Bolting upright, she glanced about the room; she was back in her own bed. Sweat trailed across her brow, her entire frame quivering. "Just a dream."

An arid breeze whisked in through the open window where Brett stood, hovering over the counter, preparing lunch. She wiped the sweat from her brow with a sigh. Over the past months, the orphanage had become her entire existence, doting each child with ardent love and affection. Living in such conditions with children didn't seem appropriate to her, but she supposed Wolfwood was right; it was better than them roaming the desert. At least this way they knew there would always be a meal and a bed waiting for them. It pained her to think of those who'd been left behind, about the atrocity that was now Liverpool.

"Feeling any better?" 

She gasped, pinching the brim of her nose. "I swear, Nicholas, you're going to give me a heart attack."

"Ha, sorry," he chuckled, lighting a cigarette. "Hey, I think you aughta take it easy next time. I got a little worried finding you passed out like that."

"Nah, I'm fine," she brushed off the matter. "You know I can't hold my liquor for nothin'."

Wolfwood smiled in reply, watching her work. No matter which way he wanted to look at it, she was an honest blessing. Her presence alone seemed to brighten a room; it was only the seldom instances when she drank that she became grueling and, more often than not, a brooder. That aside, the children adored her, she kept a tidy home, and was one hell of a good cook.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Vampires Of New York**

_Come see the vampires of New York. _

_Come lose your mind in Cental Park, _

_But don't leave your soul behind. _

The wind was howling, sand and stone beating against the outside walls as the storm raged on. Ten children filed in, eagerly filling their places at the table.

"Miss Brettney, where's Julian?" The child's arms were clasped tightly around her, pressing a worn ragdoll to her chest. Kneeling down, Brett patted her shoulder, smiling faintly.

"Julian's," she faltered. "Julian was a little sleepy after playing, so he's taking a nap."

"But what about his food?" Her inquiry came out frantic, believing it was a dire matter.

"He'll be fine," she assured. "He'll come and eat later." It was enough to satisfy the toddler, and she gave an exuberant "okay," skipping off to her seat without question.

Glancing about, Brett found no one but the children and herself. "Alright, alright," she spoke, gaining their attention, "bow your heads." There was a short pause as they shifted in their seats, folding their hands and bowing respectively. "Dear Hea-"

"Brett, quick," a familar voice called out. "Bring water!"

She hesitated for a moment, the children staring, bewildered. "Stay here, go ahead and eat. I-I'll be right back."

Making her way to the kitchen, she saw a man with his arm slung over her friend's shoulder, supporting his weight. Once the stranger was seated, she brought him a glass of water, which he quickly drank in one large gulp.

He coughed once, uttering a relieved "thank you."

"That's all you have to say," Wolfwood paused, "Needle Noggin?" With that, he gave a swift thwack to the back of the man's dome.

"Nicholas," Brett scorned, shoving his arm away. "He's a guest," she gestured to the goudge across his brow, "and he's bleeding."

Wolfwood watched, befuddled, as she took a dampened cloth and began gently dabbing at his forehead. "Are you kidding me? This man could survive a mass explosion, and you're worried about a little bit of blood?"

The only reply he recieved was a seething glare, before she turned back to the man. "Please forgive him."

Hushed whispers emanated from the doorway, catching the trio's attention. As soon as the children were spotted, they darted back to their table with unstifled giggles.

"Ha, well, those are the children," she laughed, looking back to him. "And I'm Brett. What's you're name?"

He hesitated before answering, eyeing her blissful smile. Oh, crap. He'd just gotten to a safe haven, and now stood a chance of getting shot at; he hoped Wolfwood had given him some sort of clearance. "Vash," he winced.

The syllable hung like dead air for a moment. "Oh, you mean like Vash the Stampede?"

Her smile never once faultered.

**ONE WEEK LATER**

An anxious Brett dashed out of the kitchen upon a child's voice calling her name. Skidding into the room, she rushed over to a young boy slouched in his bed.

"M-Miss Bre-ettney," he sobbed, "it hur-ur-urts..."

"Shh, Julian, it'll be okay," she cooed, rocking the child gently. "Nicholas is getting your medicine, then you'll feel better." She stroked his back, attempting to calm him. "Shh, just a bit longer."

After several minutes of reconcile, he laid back down, on the verge of sleep, Brett exiting herself from the room. Laying her head on the counter, she let out a heavy sigh.

"What's he have," The voice caught her off guard, and she looked up to see Vash, gingerly perched on a stool next to her. "If you don't mind me asking."

"No one knows." There was a long pause as she stared vacantly at the countertop. "The man in town isn't much of a doctor, and the only medicine we can afford are mild painkillers, which seem to work," she gave a weak shrug. "It started off just as a cold, and then he began complaining about stomach pains. Lately, it's been difficult for him to keep anything down. Some days he's fine, but others," she faultered, clenching back tears and bringing a hand to her brow.

Reaching over, Vash encircled her frame with a long arm. Looking to him, she blinked, clearing her eyes, and began to speak once more. "I don't know what's happening, but I'll be damned if I stand by and let that child die, Vash."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sex And Candy**

_I smell sex and candy here. _

_Who's that lounging in my chair? _

_Who's that casting devious stares in my direction? _

_Mama, this surely is a dream. _

Letting herself fall onto the matress, Brett buried her face within the pillow, inhaling deeply. What a crazy week it had been, what with their new guest. She was happy to be in his company, though, as the day could grow tedious while Wolfwood was in town. Vash was a different person, she had concluded, but he was also good, with a ceaseless light shining within him. Seeing him was almost like being reunited with an old friend, comfortable, and excited of what the conversation may entail.

How could such a kind man be branded with a name like "Stampede," she wondered. Where had people come up with these insinuations?

She remembered being shocked when Wolfwood had told her he'd ran into Vash a number of times. He'd quickly cleared up the misunderstanding, reassuring her Vash wouldn't even harm a fly. Literally.

"The infamous Humanoid Typhoon," she sighed, shaking her head. "How ridiculous."

"Knock, knock," a voice interupted her thoughts, startling her.

"Oh, hey," she smiled, meeting Wolfwood's gaze. "Did you give Jul-"

"Yes," he nonchalantly strode over, taking a seat on the bed.

"And is he-"

"Mm-hm."

Sighing, Brett closed her eyes. "Do I worry too much?"

"Probably," he shifted, laying on his side, "but it's because you care. And that's all he really wants. That's what all these kids want."

There was a long pause before either spoke.

"Do you remember when I came to this place," she suddenly inquired. Wolfwood stayed silent, chuckling lightly; seven months had passed, but the memory had not yet evaded him. "I thought you were nuts, honestly."

_Peering up the the building, Brett let out an astonished whistle. "Sure is a dump." _

_"What do you mean 'a dump?'" _

_"With all do respect, Nicholas," she tried not to laugh, "this place needs help. How do you expect to live here? Let alone children?" She stopped, musing at a broken window. "If you ask me, it's a rather strange idea. Why'd you want to do this, again?" _

_Wolfwood bit his tongue, feverishly lighting a cigarette. "You heard about the Liverpool epidemic?" She nodded, listening. "Well all those orphaned were either left, or shipped out to prospering towns. But all that did was mask the problem, not solve it. And some of those kids are right here, in Dautsin. Which you and I both know, isn't much for the welcome wagon." _

_"Wouldn't the church be angery with you? For expanding without their consent?" _

_"I wrote to them," he assured. "Besides, there's always been talk of setting up another orphanage, at least until ours is added on to." _

_Brett paused, mulling over the subject. "We'll do it," was her only reply, gandering at the building once more. _

_"Wait, what?" _

_"We'll do it," she smiled, taking his hand. _

Laughing at the reminiscence, she propped herself up on an elbow. "Well, I'm glad I stayed."

He smiled, gaze unwavering. "I'm glad you did, too."

"I guess it wasn't such a dump after all," she yawned, rolling onto her back and closing her eyes again.

"No, I guess not."

They were silent for a long while, an arid breeze billowing the weathered curtains. The bed creaked as Wolfwood shifted his weight; she could feel him hovering above her, his warm breath tracing across her skin.

"Nicholas," she giggled uneasily, "what are you doing?" Opening her eyes, she froze, their visages mere inches apart. Giving a playful smirk, he slowly brought his lips to meet hers. A wave of heat flooded her body as he descended to the crook of her neck. "Nicholas," she urged, entwining her fingers within his hair. For the moment, any and all traces of doubt were diminished. They had been denying their carnal desires for seven long months, knowing full well it was bound to reach an unbearable peak.


	5. Chapter 5

**Opium (revisited)**

_I'm so happy, so happy. _

_I'm in Heaven, yeah Heaven. _

_Oh the seizures come from opium. _

**THE NEXT EVENING**

It was smooth evenings like this that Brett found herself content. Everyone was bathed and fed, and Julian had even been feeling well enough to join them tonight. Vash had obliged to stay with them, taking up a job in town with Wolfwood, which grossed plenty of money to buy their necessities, and then some. Everything seemed to be falling into place so perfectly.

The two men had returned to their places at the table while Brett finished up putting the children to bed.

"She sure is an amazing girl," Vash mused, seeing her figure pass by the doorway.

"Yeah," Wolfwood sighed, exhaling a stream of smoke, "but complicated, too."

"What makes you say that," he quirked a brow, smirking.

He gave a faint smile; turning his attention to the window, he glanced at his cigarette, flicking the ashes away. "Nothing," he paused, raising a glass substituted with water. "Here's to paradise."

There was a long pause before either spoke.

"How'd you two meet up, anyway?"

Wolfwood stamped out the butt, pressing it into the ashtray, and leaned back in his seat. "I first met her in May City, when she was still with the Barlem Band. Don't ask me why she was with them; there are plenty of other ways to earn a few bucks, but hey, ya gotta make a living, right," he laughed gently. "Anyway, when I ran into her again, she'd left the B.B. and was looking for a change, wanting to start over," he paused, caught up in his own thoughts. "She's done a lot of things she's not particularly proud of, Vash. It's probably best not to mention it."

At that moment, Brett began making her way over to them wearing a tired smile. "Well," she yawned, stretching, "I don't know about you boys, but I'm heading off to bed. Don't get too rowdy, okay? If you wake them-"

"We'll be fine," Wolfwood grinned.

"Actually, I think I might turn in early, as well," Vash announced, giving an exaggerated yawn. "Work was a killer today."

There was a loud groan of protest. "Ah, good Lord, you're still such a wuss."

With that, the duo began bickering, gaining an exasperated sigh from their female counterpart. She shook her head, chuckling lightly at their nonsense. "Goodnight, you two."

"You comin', Vash?"

"Y-Yeah, be right there!" Pulling his jacket on, the blonde rushed through the kitchen. "Man, this girl doesn't waste any time. Up at the crack of dawn and already off to town."

"You better get used to it, Vash," Wolfwood called from behind. "She prides herself on being prompt."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," he laughed, exiting through the door, and out into the harsh sunlight.

It was to be another sweltering day. Luckily, Brett had learned to use the mornings to her advantage; it was better to travel then, than in the midday heat. But unluckily, Wolfwood's motorcycle still needed repairs, so the only way into town was on foot.

"Only two isles, only two isles," he kept reminding himself.

"Nicholas was right," she chuckled. "You really are a bit of a wuss."

"Thanks for rubbing it in."

She only laughed harder, playfully shoving his arm. "You didn't have to come if you didn't want to."

"No, that's-thats not it," he stammered. "I just didn't want you out here on your own, is all. Something could happen."

"Aw, well aren't you sweet."

The temperature had drastically climbed by the time their shopping was finished. "Looks like it'll be a hot walk home," Brett huffed, pulling her hat on. "Better pace yourself."

Few words were exchanged on the trek, both conserving their energy for the day ahead. It wasn't until she perked her head up once more, looking in Vash's direction, that she spoke. "I've been meaning to thank you," she paused, wiping the sweat from her brow, "for helping us out, working, everything. It's-It's," she stopped to wrap her arms around the man. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know how we could ever repay you." Reaching up, she placed a light kiss upon his cheek.

He was speechless for a moment, staggering amongst a heap of words. No response was needed, however, as she looked to him and smiled, taking his hand. "Let's go home."

Turning, she abruptly stopped in her tracks. "Hey, Vash?"

"Yeah," he asked, but recieved no reply. Only her shocked expression told what she'd seen before running off, leaving her baggage behind. Gasping, he took off after her, quickly keeping pace.

Billows of thick, black smoke were rising, stacking high into the air. And from what the duo could see, the fire was still raging.

Letting out an anguished cry upon reaching the collapsing building, Brett fell to her knees. "No! It-It can't!" She paused, looking to Vash. "Where-Where are the children?" When he failed to answer, she reached for him, scrambling to her feet and pounding a fist into his chest. "Where are they, damn it?" Tears welled within her eyes as she stood, looking back to the flames.

"Brett, I-"

"Nicholas," she called suddenly, fervently searching for the man. "He had to have gotten them out, right? He-He must've. He-" She froze suddenly, eyes wide with terror as she let out a bloodcurdling scream.


End file.
